Notes from a
writers’ conference
By ADAM
TANOUS
Express Arts Editor
The Sun
Valley Writers’ Conference, once again, has proven to be a fertile
ground for ideas, discussion and humor. Last week, hundreds of readers and
writers gathered together to explore the theme "The Search for
Identity." What follows are notes from just a few of the dozens of
talks given over the course of the four-day conference.
Mitch
Albom. If ever there were a writer who could be allowed writer’s
block, it would be Mitch Albom. Albom, as everyone now knows, is a sports
writer for the Detroit Free Press. Novelist Ethan Canin pointed out in
introducing Albom that he has been named best sports writer in America 13
times by the Associated Sports Editors. In 1997, Albom published
"Tuesdays with Morrie," the story of Albom’s rekindled
friendship with his college professor, Morrie Schwartz, as the man died of
Lou Gehrig’s disease (ALS). Albom’s book became a best seller and has
been on the New York Times best seller list for 200 weeks.
Albom spoke
to an issue every writer and would-be writer may worry about: what if he
or she has only one story to tell? What do you do next? And it was an
issue he faced personally and only overcame by rereading his own book and
contemplating conversations he had had with Morrie Schwartz, the subject
of his book.
Albom spoke
without notes in the "sportswriter tradition" and with humor
about the experience of writing "Tuesdays with Morrie," trying
to promote it on rinky-dink radio shows and having battles with his
publisher about publication runs.
When the
book took off and started selling wildly, Albom found himself
"paralyzed." Not only was he struggling for new ideas, he kept
getting pulled back into "Tuesdays with Morrie." People wanted
to talk about it, have him somehow write about "other college
professors," or "Wednesdays with Morrie" and other
ludicrous ideas. He also found himself falling into the trap of thinking
there was always a "younger writer" with the next hot idea out
there, and that he couldn’t compete with that.
It is a
particularly American affliction, Albom pointed out. It is one he overcame
when he recalled a conversation with Morrie. Albom asked Morrie how he
avoided being envious of the younger, healthier Albom. Morrie’s answer
was that Albom should be envious of him. He, after all, had lived
longer, had seen more. "Inside of me is every age I’ve ever
been," Morrie said.
Another
moment of revelation came to Albom when he realized that he didn’t need
to "write what he knew." The pertinent standard is to
"write what you feel … to find that point where what you know
intersects with what you feel. The key is to find yourself in all of the
stories you write."
Sen. Daniel
Patrick Moynihan:
One would be hard pressed to find a more erudite and fluid speaker than
Moynihan. He spoke about secrecy in government, citing cases from the
Venona encryptions, to the Bay of Pigs, to the Pentagon Papers, to the
Iran Contra episode. He is the rare politician who undoubtedly knows a
great deal and that one feels is actually telling the truth.
Moynihan
spoke to the issue of secrecy being a form of "regulation where the
government tells the people what they may know." He went on to
underscore the tendencies of bureaucracies to self-propel their importance
by keeping information secret.
He also
made the point that "there are no secrets in science … you can hope
for, perhaps, five years … and then someone will think it up or steal
it." As evidence he referred to the development of the hydrogen bomb
by Edward Teller and others. The point was made that "if Teller
figured it out, then so would Sakharov (the Soviet physicist)," and
he did, of course.
Ultimately,
in matters of secrecy and the inappropriate use of it, "we have to
see it as a matter that affects our democracy … This secrecy is
corrosive and antithetical to democratic values." He finished with
the rather dismal fact that we have learned very little from the mistakes
of secrecy made over the last century.
Philip
Levine: Though
Philip Levine, in prefacing a reading of his poems, disparaged his reading
abilities, nothing could be further from the truth. Levine is a remarkable
reader. Not only is he very funny, he can grip an audience with a
conviction and vision that permeates his voice. Violinist Joshua Bell, in
an interview a few weeks ago, described how, during a live performance, he
can often feel the "audience hanging on every note." Listening
to Levine read, one could actually feel the dramatic tension in the
conference tent and a commitment on the part of the audience.
Levine read
a number of his poems and even one he had received in the mail from a
young poet, Carolyn Sanderson.
People
often say they don’t "get" poetry. But the imagery in Levine’s
poetry is clear and true, the narrative line compelling. And, so often, in
poems like "The Poem of Chalk" or "Smoke’ or one about
"Monsieur Degas," Levine does what any writer would envy: he
paralyzes his listeners with the truth hanging in the air.